


In Affectionate Remembrance,

by ama



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Epistolary, Established Relationship, Found Family, Gen, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Non-Chronological, One Shot Collection, Secret Relationship, Unconventional Format, background canon relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29324211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/ama
Summary: Selected letters from Series VI of the Collected Papers of Pheris Mostrus, 10th Baron Erondites, which offer rare insight into a clandestine circle of gay and bisexual men living in the Regency and early Victorian Era.
Relationships: Kamet/Costis Ormentiedes, Relius/Teleus (Queen's Thief)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Finding Aid

Collected Papers of Pheris Mostrus, 10th Baron Erondites

SERIES VI - CORRESPONDENCE OF OTHERS

Baron Erondites’s papers included a number of letters written by and addressed to other people. A small number of these, primarily addressed to Eugenides Eddis, can be found in Series II along with the notes and early drafts of Baron Erondites’s first historical work, _An Account of the Medean Affair in Three Volumes._ The majority, however, are not referenced in that work and were stored separately, likely due to the sensitive nature of the material. Baron Erondites’s will contained instructions regarding the distribution of his personal papers and scholarly writings, and permitted the future publication of his own correspondence. In a separate letter to his eldest son, Sejanus Mostrus, 11th Baron Erondites (Series IV: CORRESPONDENCE WITH FAMILY, Box 1, Folder 15), he remarked that “owing to the sensitive nature of my friends’ letters, perhaps it ought not to be attempted, unless perhaps in some country ruled by the French system.”

This seems to be an allusion to the Napoleonic Code, which decriminalized sodomy. Both this comment and the contents of the letters have led scholars and archivists to conclude that the letters document the same-sex relationships between the primary writers and recipients, Kamet e dai Annux and Costis Ormentiedes, and Ephraim Relius and Henry Teleus (whose biograhpies are described below). The early notes of the librarians at the Public Records Office who accessioned the collection in 1899 suggested that these boxes were to be destroyed or discarded, as the contents were “vulgar, and certainly not worthy of historical study”; it is unclear how or why this plan was never carried out. A survey of the archive was conducted in 1958, which led to the series becoming minimally processed and, for the first time, described in the finding aid materials, albeit with access restrictions that limited its use by researchers.

In 1994, renewed interest in the work of the Baron Erondites coupled with the growth of LGBT History as a scholarly discipline led to more extensive processing and description of this series. A typed transcript of the letters can be found in Box 11, Folders 1-6. Users may also be interested in _Our Foolish Fellowship: An Annotated Collection of Letters on Queer Life in the Early 19th Century_ , by Basil Robinson, which is available in the Reference Room. As part of these recent scholarship efforts, the letters have been numbered, and an item list and more detailed description items can be found in PDF form [here].

It is unclear exactly how these letters came to be collected, as there are noticeable gaps in the timeline and several unexpected additions (mostly letters written by the four principal authors but addressed to others). In terms of internal documentation, it seems as though Ephraim Relius left many of his personal papers to Kamet e dai Annux, who may have weeded through them. Baron Erondites commented that e dai Annux, who was a close friend for many years, “remembered me with some fondness in his will” ( _Memoirs_ ), which may suggest how they came to be collected in his things.

**Kamet e dai Annux** (ca 1790 - 1871): Kamet (later e dai Annux; his family name at birth is unknown) was born in the early 1790s in the historical region of Setra, incorporating parts of modern-day Iran, Pakistan, and Afghanistan. At an early age he was sold into slavery in the Ottoman Empire, from which he escaped in 1818 with the aid of Eugenides Eddis and Costis Ormentiedes. He is the best-known figure in this series due to his literary career. He had been the secretary to a high-ranking Ottoman noble and was highly educated, having studied at the Interior Service of the Topokapi Palace and with various European masters. He was said to have been fluent in five languages, including Old Ensur, and provided the first-ever English translation of the _Tales of Immakuk the King_ , as well as a wide selection of Persian poetry. He also published a number of pamphlets on political subjects, most notably advocating for the abolishment of slavery and expanding educational opportunities for women and the poor. In some of his correspondence with Pheris Mostrus (found in Series V, Box 3), they discuss the possibility of e dai Annux writing a slavery narrative, inspired by _The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano,_ and there is some evidence that a draft or excerpt was produced. However, e dai Annux expressed concern that his account of slavery in the Ottoman Empire was too different from the African chattel slavery in the British Empire, and might distract from the immediate emancipation debate. No extant manuscript has ever been identified. E dai Annux lived principally in Gloucestershire, with frequent trips to London, and his books were largely patronized by the efforts of Eugenides Eddis; he was living at the Eddis estate of Ephrata at the time of his death.

 **Ephraim Relius** (1773 - 1840): Little is known about the early life of Ephraim Relius, except that he was an only child and was living in London when he was admitted to Cambridge. Although not from a wealthy family, Relius became a popular solicitor among the gentry, most notably working with John Basileus, 11th Earl Ephrata, and his daughter Irene. A series of shrewd business dealings allowed him to retire to a “gentleman’s life,” with occasional court appearances as a barrister, in 1810. He was briefly incarcerated at Newgate Prison in 1816 on charges of sedition related to several anti-monarchist pamphlets he had written in his youth. The charges were later dropped, but he remained in a state of ill health and thereafter rarely visited London, dividing his time instead between his home in Gloucestershire and the resort town of Bath. In 1817, Pheris Mostrus became his ward. The Baron Erondites credited Relius with overseeing his education and sparking an interest in history, and his book _The Medean Affair_ was the first to publicize Relius’s behind-the-scenes political influence in the Affair and in Whig politics. They remained in close contact until Relius’s death in 1840.

 **Colonel Henry Teleus** (1769 - 1845): Henry Teleus was born in Suffolk in 1769. His father, a lieutenant in the Army, was killed in action abroad, leaving behind a wife, Henry (then age 10), a younger son and two younger daughters. Mrs. Teleus struggled to support the family on primarily her husband’s pension, but saved enough to purchase her eldest son a commission in the infantry at the age of 16. Despite his modest background, he was very successful in the Army and had purchased a cavalry commission by the time he was awarded his own regiment in Gloucestershire. He struck up a friendship with Lord John Basileus, who was then elderly and in ill health. In 1810, shortly before he died, the earl named Teleus and Ephraim Relius as guardians of his daughter, Lady Irene Basileus, who had no other close male relatives. She was married and widowed within the next year and a half, which rendered her legally independent, but a close personal relationship remained between the three, and they moved in the same circles for many years afterwards. Teleus is believed to have served in the Anglo-Spanish War, the Wars of the 4th and 5th Coalition, and the Peninsular War, before retiring in 1829.

 **Lieutenant Colonel Costis Ormentiedes** (1792 - 1865): Almost all biographical information regarding Costis Ormentiedes is drawn from the letters in this collection. He was born in Suffolk. His father, the younger son of a landholding family, was a steward, and his mother a former governess, and he had one sister. He was able to purchase a commission in the Army with the assistance of an unknown benefactor. (Some scholars theorize it was Henry Teleus, who often visited family in the same region and agreed to accept Ormentiedes to his regiment despite the fact that he was one year below the age requirement.) He served in the Napoleonic Wars of 1812-1814, and later retired to a cottage in the village of Roa, in Gloucestershire, where he lived until his death in 1865.

* * *

**SERIES VI**

Box 2 (1814 - 1816)

Folder 13 .......................... Letter from H.T. to E.R. on the engagement of Lady Irene Attolia (née Basileus) to Lord Eugenides Eddis, and reply  
Folder 14 .......................... Letter from C.O. to father on relationship to Ephrata household following dinner party

Box 3 (1817 - 1820)

Folder 2 .......................... Letter from K.e.D.A. to C.O. upon arrival in England, and reply


	2. VI.2.13

I pick up my pen to tell you, my dear friend, of such chaos and ill luck that I may suppose myself on the Continent once more. One would expect that Peace and Home would bring with it a modicum of sense and order, but that is not to be. You will recall the events of last summer, in which a certain Gentleman (though I use the term very loosely) sought entrance to our friend Lady A’s estate—and indeed did gain entrance, though no person of good breeding could construe her pleasantries as an invitation in any sense of the word. Well, the gentleman in question has returned, and with even less pretense of good manners than before. He invited himself and stayed long past the time when Lady A would have had him gone. Regrettably, I was obliged to be absent for several days due to business with my regiment—which should have taken no more than half a day, were it not for the interference of Captain En, but let that complaint stand for another day. It was very unlucky, and I hope that you will not reprove me too harshly for failing the office entrusted to me in your absence. So, too, do I hope that Lady A will not have cause to grieve it in the future, although I cannot help but think she must—and why do you suppose? Because, my dearest sir, she tells me that the gentleman made her an offer of marriage, and she has accepted him! 

I was all astonishment. I cannot guess how my countenance appeared—I spoke very little, except to wish her joy, whatever possible joy may come from such a union. For my part, I can conceive of no reason why such a woman as Lady A, with elegance, good breeding, wealth, and tolerable independence, ought to attach herself to any man so disagreeable. His manners some may find amusing, but I call them insolent, and while his family may be an old and respectable one, he is surely the least respectable of the lot, with no real title, no estate, and only a little fortune to his credit. I suspect him of mercenary motives. Lady A, with all delicacy, hinted to me that it was a match not without affection. She must make some justification, for as you well know, I do not share your opinion that she ought to marry again so soon, and have advised her so. I cannot imagine the attachment is very strong. She has never shown him any particular favor; on the contrary, she is quite out of sorts after every encounter with the man. And though he may have set about a campaign of flirtation, he is of the flighty type that, I contend, would embark on a flirtation with anyone, and is it therefore not so surprising that he might have set himself for a dowager marchioness, with two estates and fifty thousand pounds, with an impeccable reputation and beauty that cannot be touched by many women ten years her junior—with everything, in short, to recommend her?

I will not relate to you every particular of our conversation, or the intercourse I have had with the gentleman thereafter. He is possessed of very affable manners, when he wishes to be—with me he sees no occasion to dispense of them—but it is no matter. It is not in my power, nor is it my place, to separate him from Lady A. I have heard no real evil of him. I know he is inclined to gamble and lies prodigiously to the ton for his own amusement, both facts of which he has admitted himself. My opinion of the ton’s insipid stupidity leads me to consider this failing with fairly little weight, except for the fact that it reveals him as an empty-headed rattle. Still, if he is  lacking in many aspects that would bring Lady A the most happiness, I will deign to hope that he is at least not  possessing of those attributes that would bring her most misery. I hope that this, in addition to the stalwart protection of those who consider her a friend, will lessen the unsuitability of this match.

However, you are so much the better at seeking out unfavorable reports, and I entreat you to write to me with any reason you might come across that will persuade Lady A to call off the banns. But pray, do so without making this intelligence known far and wide—Lord EE wishes to inform his family of his success, and the wedding articles must be drawn up, before the engagement is announced. No doubt you will receive a missive from the lady herself soon. She has hinted that I might return to my regiment with no further thought of making myself available to her, for surely you can provide her with every assistance in these matters. While owning that to be true, I will admit—I long to see you. My obligations to the regiment are not very great, and I daresay a fortnight’s absence would be of no concern. Our separation, on the other hand, drags on far too long, and I fear my temper is shortened all the more, for having no one to listen to my complaints nor teaze me out of my foul moods. Only keep me informed whether you consult with Lady A in London or Gloucestershire, and I will contrive to be there also. I need not inform her ladyship of my travel plans. I want only for a good fire and a bottle of wine and your company, and I shall be made as content as Lady A’s intended may allow me to be.

Yours faithfully,

H Teleus

Dearest colonel—no doubt you will be very vexed to receive this letter, rather later than you had hoped and without the longed-for invitation. Lady A did indeed travel to London to consult with me, and we have been very cosy together this past week in drawing up articles of marriage. Lord EE may have begged leave for time to inform his family of the engagement, but I suppose they had proprietary knowledge of his intending to make the offer and great confidence in its acceptance, because the family solicitor arrived within as short a time as could be expected, and I would not be surprised if the calling of the banns has claimed your attention sooner than my missive.

With all the affection you may reasonably presume me to possess (if not a good deal more), I say this: you are certainly  not welcome in town. There are far too many dour faces about at present--I have dined several times with Lord EE and his family, his father and brothers and a number of cousins (so many red coats flocking the room, I might assume myself to be dining in your house), and as such have no patience whatsoever for any additional glowers. You had much better remain in Gshire and nurse your own disappointment with the comfort of your officers, whose morals and manners not as likely to vex you as those of the young gentleman who is frequently in my company. (Excepting Captain E—is there no opportunity to foist him on another regiment? I have scarcely heard you speak of him without complaint.) I offer no balm to your other indisposition, except perhaps to counsel patience and assure you of my steadfast attachment, and remind you of the efficacy of poetry in comforting melancholy natures.

As to the character of Lord EE, I fear I cannot quite make him out. I know he has always struck you as a very unpleasant and provoking fellow, and indeed I will acknowledge his attitude towards  you is not what it ought to be—yet to myself he has never been anything but polite, and rather more reserved than I am used to seeing him. I cannot guess why, for I do not presume that he likes me any more than you, but maybe I conceal my concerns better and am therefore accorded a greater portion of civility. Towards Lady A he is all politeness. He condescends to teaze her on occasion, but in so bland a voice that one hardly knows what he is about. I hardly know how to describe the lady’s mood. Her temper is very short after being in the gentleman’s company, yet she does seek out his company very often and seems to think quite well of him at times. In any case, she is set on the match.

You will be glad to hear that I have made very minute inquiries and am inclined to confirm your suspicion that there is no real evil in his character. The Honourable S.E. dislikes him, and Lord S⸺ would lay every sin imaginable at his door, but I place no worth in the word of a man so very acquainted with Wrath, Greed, and Envy (in the case of the latter) or puffed up on their own vanity (the former). It is generally talked of that he is fond of a gamble, and has lived a very indolent life, being the youngest of the siblings when his uncle died and his father ascended to the duchy and therefore much more entitled to the general privileges of such a rank. It was his father’s wish that he would go into the Army and his mother’s that he should read Law. He most strenuously objected to the former and seemed inclined to drift towards the latter until two years ago, when he began to speak most seriously of taking orders. I was surprised to hear of this, as you might imagine—he does not strike me as the personality that might find satisfaction in such an occupation, and of course it will be quite impossible now, when he shall take over management of Ephrata. But there is a very good family living that is expected to fall vacant within the next year or two, and I fancy there was real regret in his face when he spoke of letting it go.

That is all I have to report for the present. I might say also that I think you may not dread engagements at Ephrata  too much in the future if there is a large family party in attendance, for the Duke and Lady H (cousin to Lord EE, the daughter of the prior duke) are much more to your taste in manner and character, and you may enjoy their company if either your or he could condescend to say “good morning.” The duke is as fiercely protective of his charge as you are of yours, although yours has never given you half so much trouble. And if there can be no friendship there, at the very least you shall have me—

Your dearest and most delightful friend,

Relius


	3. VI.2.14

Sir—

I must explain my actions, and yet I find myself at a loss. I know not what reports have reached your ears, or if indeed you have heard of my conduct in Gloucestershire, or whether I must be the one to provide you with information that must shock and grieve you. The facts are thus:

As I mentioned in my previous letter, the most prominent lady of the neighborhood, Lady Attolia, was recently married to a Lord Eugenides Eddis. It is a match that generated much gossip and disapprobation (I am ashamed to admit even that I participated in such ill-bred talk), as Lord Eugenides is a younger son, without proper title or fortune, and whose manners are not what one would expect for the suitor of a woman of the lady’s elegance and good character. And yet they are married nonetheless, and all have endeavored to be polite to Lord Eugenides, who must as a matter of course be received by the highest circles of society in the neighbourhood—and, despite the fact that many would like excuse to be rid of his company, I must admit that he is very sly about his rudeness, and has done no real harm to anybody.

I deeply regret that the same cannot be said of myself. Yesterday evening, Lord. Eugenides and Lady Irene hosted a very large party of myself and my brother officers in addition to some young ladies of the neighbourhood. When the ladies had retreated to the drawing room, there was a lively conversation among the gentlemen. I have no excuse, indeed no comprehension, as to why I acted as I did—I can presume only that, my being in the company of many of my own friends, and being possessed of a little drink and great good spirits, I was seized with a most unbecoming and, I sincerely hope, most uncharacteristic arrogance. There came a moment when, having neglected my host shamefully in favor of making sly jokes among my friends, I was called on to attend the conversation between Lord E. and Colonel Teleus. Then, upon hearing what I perceived to be a veiled insult to the colonel, I most foolishly decided to deliver an unveiled insult to Lord E. in turn.

I cannot express the depth of my shame at such ungentlemanlike behavior. To insult a man in his own house! To accuse him baselessly of disrespect towards his own wife and manner unbecoming a gentleman! Truly, Father, I was ashamed of myself instantly. The words were hardly spoken before I began to make an apology—I know not how coherently I spoke, and before many moments had passed, Col. Teleus had stood and disavowed me to Lord E. and escorted me forthwith from the house, upbraiding me all the way to my lodgings.

I have heard nothing from my companions—none of my friends have come to tell me what transpired of the remainder of the evening, although two men in passing bestowed upon me such looks of approbation that I dread to hear the well-justified reproves of the rest. I write this letter early in the morning, in the hopes of paying a morning visit to Lord E. and begging his pardon. I may never like the man, but my words were unaccountable and I hope my apology will be accepted without the need for a challenge. Lord E. has hinted on occasion that he would not be opposed to the practice of dueling, were a sufficient motivation to prompt him, although on other occasions he has been very mocking on the subject of honour and the exact strictures society has accorded it. I am eager to avoid such a possibility—I do not consider duelling a moral or honourable failing in and of itself, but its illegality does give me pause, as one charged with enforcing His Majesty’s justice, and I grow yet more leery of the prospect of dueling a one-handed man. (At the present moment, I wonder also at my ability to procure the necessary seconds, for although Aris is the best and most loyal of friends, his family situation is such that he must be always conscious of his connections and reputation, and the damage he might do to both in supporting a friend in disgrace.)

So that is my account, Sir. I wish I could heartily deny any accusations you have heard against me—and if they have grown more lurid in the journey from G—shire to Pomea, I hope that I have refuted them. Beyond that, I can do no more than assure you of my great shame and regret, so that you may derive some comfort from knowing that, if your son is not the gentleman you had hoped him to be, he has not abandoned  all the principles you sought to instill.

I pick up my pen again this evening with very different news from that which inspired me in the morning. You may be very surprised, Father, to hear that no sooner had I finished my letter than a visitor arrived—indeed, no other than Lord Eugenides himself! He was all condescension—in fact, upon my making a second fumbling attempt at an apology, he dismissed the topic altogether and insisted on hearing something of myself, my family, my origin, the circumstances surrounding my commission, and my opinions of life in G—shire. We spoke for some time, in fact, before Lord E. turned the subject back to my outburst of the previous night. Then, to my horror, he began to quiz me on the opinion of others regarding himself. He seemed determined to hear from my own lips that other lieutenants had made him such insults when among our own company (which is true, although I endeavored not to reveal it), and that Colonel Teleus indulged in the same sentiment. Of this, I have no knowledge. I do not think Colonel Teleus likes Lord E—I know of few who do—but for such a man to confide in me would be extraordinary, and if I had been granted such trust, it would be reprehensible for me to betray it. I could not account for Lord E’s persistence, until I recalled that Col. Teleus has been a steadfast friend to Lady Irene, and was appointed her guardian at her father’s untimely death. No doubt he counseled her privately against the marriage—and Lord E meant to make me the object of their separation!

I was much distressed at this realization, and I feel some shame in admitting that my voice rose and I might have made Lord E. as great an insult as the day before—although the burden on my conscience is lessened considerably due to the knowledge that Lord E. spoke apurpose to insult me, by cajoling me to speak poorly and falsely of a man of whom I have the highest regard. My conduct was worthy of reproach, but there are greater evils of which I remain blameless.

Our interview may have ended there, to mutual dissatisfaction, were it not for the sudden arrival of Lady Irene. She was much displeased to see me, and I think would rather have given me the cut and have done with it—but the nature of the country, and of the Army, is such that an invitation to the officers is very readily assumed to encompass all the officers, and Lady Irene is a very precise and efficient woman. I am sure that she had come to inform me in no uncertain terms that I was barred forever from Ephrata.

“But consider, my dear, the very material effect your words will have on our intercourse with our neighbors,” Lord E. said in a mild tone before she had spoken more than a few words. (I blushed to hear a husband criticise his wife so in public, and would have slunk out the door to spare myself the mortification of listening further, if her ladyship had not been standing before it.) She replied that she had no cognizance of making such an effect—indeed I have gone to Ephrata no more than once every two months in all my time here, and very probably less—but Lord E. reminded her that I was a very great favorite of Colonel Teleus, that he had particularly praised my service on the Continent in her presence more than once, and that to refuse my acquaintance would certainly cause a rift between them, as he could not very easily relieve himself of his authority over me, while his connection to her, affectionate though it may be, had not the force of law.

Imagine, dear Father, my horror at his words! The thought of suffering not only my own exclusion from the polite society of G—shire, but being the cause of such a breech between an estimable lady and my own colonel, a man I admire profusely, whom she must see as nearly a father! I could not have borne it. I spoke very warmly in Colonel Teleus’s defense, all the while feeling keenly that I should not be a witness to such a conversation at all, let alone a participant—but eventually everything was settled. Lady Irene allowed me to make my defense and my most profuse apologies—I assured her that Col. Teleus had reprimanded me severely and made me heartily ashamed of myself—and she resolved to call upon him forthwith.

Then, to my surprise, Lady Irene looked at me very piercingly and said, “As you are a lieutenant, sir, may I presume you are an able horseman? And is it true that you were intended to serve as the steward of a small estate, until the generosity of a patron allowed you to purchase a commission?” She waited for my affirmation, and upon confirming her intelligence she declared that her husband, being a third son raised in great indulgence, was as yet new to the business of managing such a place as Ephrata, and that his riding skills had yet to recover from the loss of his hand (though here Lord E. interrupted to protest that he had never had the skill of riding a horse with anything but misery), and asked if I might make amends for such a grievous insult by becoming his particular confidante, accompanying him on his inspections of the estate, sharing my knowledge of farming, and overseeing his exercise on horseback. My astonishment could not have been greater. I could not imagine—and still do not imagine—what should inspire such a lady to assign her husband a nurse-maid in this fashion. I tried to protest that my duties to the Army made such a task impossible, and bade her to ask of me any other favor, any other means by which I might earn the lady and her husband’s good opinion, or at least lessen their bad opinion. But she would have none of it, and before I had spoken very long, Lord E. indicated that he was not at all opposed to the idea, and in fact added that he might wish to supplement his exercise with fencing.

“There is no fencing master in the country that can compare with those in London, of course, but I shall be quite content with an opponent who must do great credit to His Majesty’s Army,” he said with a flourishing bow, and I could do naught but accept.

There, Father—now you know everything. I have received a note from Col. Teleus confirming that he may well spare me for a few hours in the early morning to wait upon the household at Ephrata, and suggesting that it might be a credit to my character if I were to make myself available in the evenings and any spare afternoons, as is required of me. I admit that I accept this task with great consternation, as my personal opinion of Lord E. is not at all favorable despite the considerable debt I owe him—but alas, sensible to this debt, I must be obliging. We have set upon a time tomorrow for the first fencing match, as Lord E. is confident that it will rain, and make travel by horseback very onerous. On my part, I detect not a cloud in the sky. I suspect, rather, that Lord E. will draw on all the wisdom imparted by his London fencing masters to punish me soundly for my conduct, without the risk of true injury to his person that he might have courted in the issuance of a proper challenge to duel. We will see on the morrow, then, whether a gentlemen of leisure can acquire the skill to deliver a beating than any number of Napoleon’s officers failed to strike. Regardless, I hope to acquit myself in a way that brings you no further grief.

Your obedient son,

Costis


	4. VI.3.2

Dear Lieutenant Ormentiedes,

I beg that you will forgive me for taking the liberty to write this letter, particularly if its sentiments prove to be offensive to you. I have delayed the writing of it for some time, although a good deal of my reticence may be put down to ignorance of your absence from Gloucestershire, and the subsequent belief that you were taking pains to avoid my company, a belief which (I may add) our mutual friend took no pains to correct. I know not whether he intended to punish me with this ignorance, or hoped merely that solitude might make me more cognizant of my own mind. I will first take the opportunity to say that I hope you find your family in perfect health and happiness, and that the business that brought you homeward may be easily discharged.

Second, I will do that which I ought to have seen to the moment we returned to Gloucestershire together, and offer you my very deepest thanks for the kindness you showed to me in aiding my return to England. It will be some time, I think, before I am fully able to reconcile my thoughts on the matter. I have been so long a slave, and so long immersed in the mores and philosophies of the Ottomans, that it was difficult for me to feel or acknowledge any gratitude. My education may have included the intellectual and moral strictures of the West, and my travels may have brought me to Europe on many occasions, yet I was conscious of myself always as an Ottoman subject. Indeed, I was proud of myself as such, convinced that, if I had not been a slave, I should never have traveled so far nor read so widely, and was therefore compelled to defend practices that others may see as barbaric, for fear that there could be no good in my life without the necessary evils. (In my own defence, I will say too that this cannot be so very surprising to you, as there are still many Englishmen who will defend the practice of slavery, or have defended it until very recently.) Looking back, that may be true, but it does not follow that it must  always be true. Upon reflection, I can acknowledge that your actions were motivated by just principles, and that I may now be able to seek out a new path with its own inherent goodness and different—and, I may hope, lesser—evils than those of my previous life. 

I wish also to convey my deep apologies for failing to treat you with equal respect and sincerity in our journey. I have no excuse for it except fear; I knew, or thought I knew, the great danger that would befell me if I was detected, and had no reason to suppose you valued my life to the point of risking your own. Thus I must apologize both for my own lack of morals and my skewed sense of yours.

I have one final object, and it is one that I undertake with much trepidation. Let the contents of this letter be ever so pleasing to you on every other point, I am unsure of my reception in this matter. And yet I proceed, taking only a moment to urge that, if a single word of this missive is distressing to you, you may discard it immediately and make no mention of it hereafter, and I will do the same. Retain only what is acceptable to you, and I will count myself among the luckiest of men to retain likewise any part of your former esteem.

And so I take up my pen to assure you of my deep and abiding feeling for you. Perhaps this will come as a great surprise, for I know that you are well acquainted with vanity and my arrogance, and I have often been too warm in my criticisms, too self-important in my manner. I blush to think of it. I have too often been in the company of men with a great deal of education, wealth, and elegance, and a sad dearth of kindness, morals, and every good feeling that a gentleman ought to be in possession of. At first, I did not even acknowledge your kindness to be genuine; every moment of unrestrained warmth, I thought to be proof of either insincerity or very bad manners. (And to think that I indulged in such smug musings while concealing my intentions beyond the point of honor, and making hardly any attempt to conceal my contempt!) Now, with greater knowledge of your mind and greater perspective of my own heart, I may state that I hold you among the most honorable, sensible, and gracious men of my acquaintance. I should dearly like to continue the acquaintance further.

Regardless of anything, I owed you the thanks and the apology I have remitted above. If you wish to accept these offerings and let this be the amicable end of our association, I must accept that. However, I pray this will not be so. I pray instead that mine shall be the fate of that great king of whom it was written “the goddess, Queen of Mercy, turned his head, and to his friend the lonesome path now led.”

Your servant,

Kamet 

I have been urged to take up a surname for myself but have not yet settled upon one. Mr. Relius assures me that the direction alone will be enough for a reply to be sent, should you wish to attempt it.

My dear friend,

Forgive the briefness of this letter. I have traveled to Suffolk to attend my sister’s wedding. There is hardly any other circumstance in this life that would prevent me from putting this note in your hand myself. Your thanks and apologies are accepted heartily, and I can only hope that you have not been  too bothered by reminisces of our travels and your conduct. I comprehend you perfectly. Perhaps you may have been, at times, very foolish—but who among us can say he has not? As for your third object, I think it better to talk it over when we meet again, an occasion which, I hope, will be none too distant. My sister’s wedding takes place three days hence, and if the roads are good I shall return to Gloucester soon thereafter. Until then

I remain, happily,

Your Ennikar


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